


Patched Up: A Tale of Zaeed and Chakwas

by BaronVonChop



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaronVonChop/pseuds/BaronVonChop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Commander Shepard adds a mercenary to the crew of the Normandy, the ship's doctor doesn't approve. As time goes on, Zaeed and Chakwas each start to realize that there is value to the other's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patched Up: A Tale of Zaeed and Chakwas

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to the site, so please let me know if there is anything I should be doing differently!
> 
> This story is for my wife.

Commander Shepard lay on the bed in her quarters, eyes closed. Between dealing with Aria T’Loak, meeting and rescuing Garrus, curing the plague, and recruiting Mordin, she felt like she had earned a few moments of peace.

The comm on her console beeped to indicate a message. Shepard sighed and got up. She strode over and activated the message.

Dr. Chakwas’ voice spoke from the console. “Commander, when you have a moment, I would like to speak with you privately.”

Shepard keyed in the doctor’s comm ID and said, “I’m up in my quarters. Come up when you have some time.”

A few minutes later, Shepard’s door opened and Chakwas came in. “Thank you for making time to speak with me, Commander,” Chakwas said.

“Of course,” said Shepard. Shepard motioned her over, and they both sat at the table in the Commander’s quarters.

Shepard leaned forward, a forearm on her thigh. “What can I do for you, Doctor?”

Chakwas paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Can I be perfectly frank, Commander?”

“Of course,” Shepard replied, only a little hesitant.

“It’s about this addition to the squad.”

Shepard smiled. “If you’re worried that Dr. Solus is going to replace you, don’t worry. Mordin is busy with scientific research, and I wouldn’t trust him to be the crew’s primary doctor, anyway. His methods seem a little too unorthodox for me to start signing up my crew for checkups with him.”

“I’m sure the salarian is fine, and of course it’s good to see Garrus again,” Chakwas replied. “It’s about the other one. This mercenary.”

“Zaeed Massani,” said Shepard, her brows knitting. In all the excitement of curing the plague and saving Garrus, she had hardly had a chance to think about the other addition to her crew. “The Illusive Man is paying him a lot of credits for this mission. Given what we’re up against, I don’t want to think about how much that might be.”

Chakwas sighed. “Yes, I’m sure he’s being very well compensated. That’s my concern, actually.”

Shepard felt like she had some idea as to where Chakwas was going, but she wanted to hear Chakwas out. “Well, it’s the Illusive Man’s money.”

“It’s not the amount that matters,” said Chakwas, and Shepard nodded. She had guessed as much. Chakwas continued, “I’ve known men like that before. I don’t know much about this Massani but his reputation, but men who fight for pay cannot be trusted. These are people who make their living with violence.”

The doctor looked like she had more to say, but she grew quiet, looking at the table and frowning. Shepard offered, “Violence is a part of every soldier’s life.”

Dr. Chakwas drew a breath. “What you do is not the same. You fight because you believe in what you do, Commander. Men like that, well, they don’t believe in anything.” She studied Shepard’s face, and Shepard saw the pride and respect in the doctor’s eyes. “If you were given an order you didn’t agree with, you wouldn’t follow it. If a man like Massani were given such an order, he’d probably just charge extra.”

Shepard’s lips were drawn into a line, her expression serious. “I understand your concerns, and thank you for bringing them to me. The Illusive Man may be paying his fee, but while he’s on this mission, Massani will be taking orders from me.”

“That’s a relief, Commander. I know I can trust you to keep a close eye on him.”

* * *

The Normandy was in orbit around a world it had recently depleted of its rich stores of palladium. Shepard made the rounds of her crew, stopping by each person to hear their thoughts and share stories. When she arrived in Zaeed’s quarters, the mercenary was sitting on a stack of crates, hurling throwing knives into the opposite wall.

Shepard crossed her arms and gave a small smile. “You know, that wall is against an outer bulkhead, so I hope you don’t plan on throwing too many knives into it.”

Zaeed grunted and put down the knives. “Shepard. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Shepard sat at a worktable near Zaeed. “I have time for a war story or two.”

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about this time. It’s about your doctor.”

Something about the way the mercenary said “your” doctor made Shepard wary. “Do you have concerns about Dr. Chakwas as a medical officer?”

“She’s good enough,” said Zaeed with a shrug. “I’ve known a lot of doctors in my time, and so long as they can get the shrapnel out and stop the bleeding, I don’t particularly care about their bedside manner.”

Shepard picked up a ship model on Zaeed’s desk and turned it over in her hands. “So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t give two shits about whether she likes me, so long as she does her job.” Zaeed stood up, crossed to the other side of the room, and wrenched a knife out of the wall. He turned it over in his hands as he talked. “What I can’t stand is the way she sticks her nose in everyone’s business. It seems like every time I walk past the medical bay, she’s sitting down to tea and biscuits with some crewman.”

“And you have a problem with that?”

“Do I have a problem with the ship’s doctor becoming friends with everyone on the crew? Damn right I do. The doctor’s job is to put people’s bodies back together, and fuzzy feelings and warm emotions are only going to get in the way.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”

“It’s about making the hard calls, Shepard. If a squad comes back from a mission torn to pieces, the doctor needs to decide in a moment which ones can be saved and work on those. She can’t be thinking about the tea parties and warm hugs she shared with them.”

Shepard shook her head. “I’ve known Dr. Chakwas a long time, and I have every confidence in her abilities and her judgement. And,” she added as she saw Zaeed about to speak, “if you’re worried that she’ll let her personal feelings about you interfere with her work, I can assure you that she is a complete professional.”

Zaeed rubbed his chin. “Personal feelings, eh?”

“You’re not the most lovable person on this ship, Massani.”

“Good to know where we stand, Shepard. I should let you go.”

* * *

Commander Shepard winced as Dr. Chakwas explored the burn on the Commander’s arm with a diagnostic device. Shepard’s squad had just returned from Zorya, where Zaeed had confronted Vido Santiago. Chakwas was carefully repairing the damage Shepard’s arm had taken during the fight. The procedure was lengthy and Chawkas took her time to make sure that everything healed well.

The silence began to unnerve Shepard. “You’re usually more talkative, Doctor.” Shepard tried to keep her voice light.

Chakwas did not make eye contact as she studied a readout on a nearby screen. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, Commander.”

“Anything you’d like to discuss?”

The doctor was silent for several moments. Shepard was just beginning to think that Chakwas would not respond when she said, “I heard that the refinery was destroyed during the fighting. I suppose it would be too much to hope that the refinery workers got out alive?”

Chakwas raised her eyes to Shepard, but now it was Shepard’s turn to look away. “We could either save the workers or go after Vido. There wasn’t time for both.”

The doctor applied a healing pad to Shepard’s shoulder, perhaps harder than was necessary. “I’m sure you did what you felt was right.”

Shepard considered her response for a long moment. Finally, she let out a long breath and said, “Do you remember Asteroid X57?”

The doctor’s hands paused briefly as she thought back. “Some batarians were trying to drop the asteroid on Terra Nova.”

“I had a choice then: I could stop Balak, or I could save some engineers he was holding as hostages.” Shepard had replayed the decision in her mind countless times.

“You chose to save those people.”

Only a slight quaver in Shepard’s voice betrayed her emotion. “Balak is still out there somewhere because I let him go. He’s probably put more lives at risk, killed more people, because I didn’t stop him.”

Chakwas moved her face in front of Shepard’s and looked at her until Shepard met her eyes. “We don’t know that. If he has, the blame lies with him. Not with you.”

Shepard held Chakwas’ gaze, then shook her head. “I wish I could believe that. But I don’t. Because I couldn’t make the tough decision and let those people die, I fear that even more lives have been lost.”

Chakwas wrapped up Shepard’s wound and helped the commander down from the table. “Do you wish you would have made another decision?”

Shepard touched her injured arm. The pain was already nearly gone. “I made the only decision I could. If it had been Zaeed, he would have gone after Balak without hesitation. That’s why we need people like him: to make the tough decisions when we can’t.”

* * *

Kasumi Goto looked up from the book she was reading when Zaeed walked into the Port Observation Lounge. Miranda and Jacob sat nearby, each holding a drink and gazing out the viewport, thinking ahead to the coming mission. “Hi, Zaeed,” Kasumi said, as he went over to the bar. “Here to join us for a drink?”

Zaeed opened a cabinet and pulled out a tall greenish bottle. “Figured since we’re about to board a dead Reaper to rip out its IFF, it doesn’t sound like the kind of mission I want to be entirely sober for.” He got down a tall glass, filled it with ice cubes, and poured the brandy over it. He lifted it to his lips, sniffed, scowled, and took a big swallow.

Jacob looked over. “Woa. I know that if I tried to drink like that before a mission, I wouldn’t be able to shoot straight.”

Zaeed glared, but the glare was more for his glass than for Jacob. Whatever was in that green bottle was stronger than he’d counted on. “I appreciate the concern, but don’t worry about me. I remember this one job on Omega where we were supposed to wait for a contact in a bar. He was an hour late, and by the time he got there—”

Zaeed was just getting warmed up for the story when the door opened. The mercenary was so focused on Jacob, Miranda, and Kasumi that he didn’t turn around until Dr. Chakwas said, “How are you liking my Karpyshyn Limited?”

Confusion knit Zaeed’s brows. “Your...?”

Chakwas strode over to the liquor cabinet and tapped the glass. Holograms floated in front of each bottle, displaying the names of the Normandy’s crew. Zaeed’s name was conspicuously absent.

Kasumi laughed as Chakwas raised an eyebrow and asked, “Or were free drinks part of your contract negotiation?”

“Sorry,” mumbled Zaeed, shifting on his chair uncomfortably. “Didn’t know it was yours. Here, let me pay you for the bottle.” He activated his omni-tool and brought up his payment program.

Chakwas dismissed the offer with a wave of her hand. “I have no intention of driving you broke just as you’re about to go into battle.”

A wry smile quirked her lips as she got two glasses down from the shelf. “But what you’re doing isn’t drinking it. You’re just pouring it down your throat. I’ll show you the difference.”

Jacob and Miranda turned to see what Chakwas was doing and Kasumi watched from her perch on the couch, a smile playing over her lips. The doctor poured a little bit of the brandy into the glasses, making Zaeed painfully aware of how much more he’d poured into his earlier. She then pulled another bottle from the medicine cabinet and several smaller bottles from below the bar and poured splashes from each into the glasses. When she was finished, she dropped a sprig of some leafy herb into each glass and handed one to Zaeed. “No ice. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” he said. They clinked glasses and they both drank. Zaeed only took a small sip, but the warmth from it spread down his throat and through his chest. “That’s good stuff.” He filled his mouth enough to cover his tongue, and swallowed when his tongue started to tingle. “Wow.”

“You’ll be with Shepard on this mission?” asked Chakwas.

“Yeah. Shepard’s a hell of a soldier,” Zaeed replied, frowning, “as tough as anyone I’ve ever worked with. From what the salarian was saying, this mission is going to be unlike anything we’ve faced so far. I’ll watch her back, though, whatever happens.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to Shepard.”

Jacob and Miranda raised their glasses, and even Kasumi hoisted an imaginary glass.

Chakwas studied Zaeed carefully, as though seeing him in a new light. “To Shepard,” said Chakwas, lifting her glass and then drinking. Then, to Zaeed, she said, “This was fun. Next time, Mr. Massani, you buy the drinks.”

* * *

Events proceeded quickly from there: they got the IFF device, added a geth platform to the squad, lost their crew to Collectors, and went through the Omega Relay to get them back.

The next thing he knew, Zaeed was in the organic hallways of the Collector base, out of breath and running low on thermal clips as Shepard led them deeper. The whole team was there, spread out throughout the base on several converging paths.

Those paths converged in a large chamber. Zaeed covered Garrus as the turian emptied his thermal clip into a Collector’s face just moments before Tali threw the door shut. They all breathed a sigh of relief, then reloaded.

Zaeed sensed that something was wrong before he turned around. Shepard had gone quiet, and that quiet was spreading through the squad. Then all at once people started running and shouting. There were pods in the room, each holding a missing member of the Normandy’s crew.

Zaeed spotted Chakwas’ pod as some sort of digestive liquid began to pump into it. He ran over, beating on the pod’s translucent surface with his hands as Chakwas struggled inside. Zaeed lifted his rifle and brought its butt down on the pod with all his strength. He couldn’t tell if it had done any good, but he raised it again and hit the pod again, and again, and again.

Something in the pod gave, and at the next blow an opening appeared. Zaeed flung the rifle down and grabbed the opening with both hands, straining his legs, back, and arms as the pod slowly tore open. Then the pod swung open so quickly he nearly lost his balance, and he caught the doctor as she fell out.

“Doctor? Are you all right?” he asked, nearly shouting in her face as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

Chakwas turned her head and coughed out some liquid, then gasped. As her breathing slowed, she turned to Zaeed and said in a thick voice, “I think I will be all right, Mr. Massani.” She drew a shaky breath. “I could use that drink now.”

When Shepard had gathered them together, the squad members and the recovered crew alike, there was a clamor of volunteers to escort the crew back to the Normandy.

“Let me take ‘em back, Shepard,” said Zaeed, among the other voices.

Shepard gave a weary smile. “I don’t know, Zaeed. I wouldn’t want you to be the only one to make it back alive.”

“Not this time,” the mercenary replied, his eyes hard and voice firm.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to see the large eyes of Mordin Solus. “You are needed here, to defend this position. I am trained in stealth extractions. Let me take them.”

Zaeed nodded, glancing at Dr. Chakwas. “Bring them home, Mordin.”

“I will,” the salarian said gently. “You hold the line.”

Once Shepard, Garrus, and Samara had gone off to the center of the base, Jacob gathered the remaining defenders and assigned them to firing positions. “Pick your targets and coordinate firing patterns by squad,” the Cerberus soldier said.

Zaeed was paired with Thane and Tali. The quarian’s voice barely shook when she said, “Whew. This is really it.”

Thane’s voice was calm, but grim. “If it is our fate to die today, it will be a good death.”

“To hell with that!” Zaeed declared. “The only ones dying today are any guddamn bugs that cross into our zone. Now come on, let’s make them pay.”

* * *

There wasn’t much opportunity to talk after that. Shepard destroyed the Collector base, and almost immediately was called upon to go on a secret mission. Neither Zaeed nor Chakwas knew the details, but when the Commander returned, she was sent to Earth for a trial. After that, the team went their separate ways.

The Reapers invaded soon after.

Zaeed, always restless, started looking for jobs that would put him up against Cerberus. Chakwas helped treat wounded aboard the Citadel until Shepard returned and offered to take her back aboard. The doctor spent the rest of the war aboard the Normandy, exchanging occasional emails with Zaeed. In his emails, he began to ruminate more and more about what he would do after the war with all the money he had saved up. Chakwas was always happy to share suggestions.

* * *

Several years later, Zaeed lay relaxing on a pier over a lake, with a rebuilt Jesse leaning against his deckchair. He looked up as a shadow fell over him and saw that Chakwas had risen from the nearby chair and was walking their house. “While you’re up,” he grunted, “could you get me another drink?”

She scowled down at him while also smiling. “Get your own damn drink, you lazy old fart.”

Zaeed laughed as he got to his feet. “A lazy old fart, huh?” As he took a step toward her she was already laughing. “I’ll show you something that’s both the opposite of lazy and something an old fart couldn’t do.”

“Oh? ...oh! OOH! Hahahaha! Are you quite sure this lake is private?”

“I checked it myself. No-one around for miles to hear you scream.”

“I like the sound of that, Mr. Massani.”


End file.
